


When God Knew Nothing

by MinterferenceProtocol (momentinsubtext)



Series: Aftermath Triad [2]
Category: Jekyll (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3996532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentinsubtext/pseuds/MinterferenceProtocol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where love can tear you apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When God Knew Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> When God  
> knew nothing, it was better, wasn't it?  
> Not the colour blue yet, it's deep  
> unto black. No colour at all really  
> not yet one thing leading to another.
> 
> :: "What God Knew", Marianne Boruch ::

Time seems to slow down as Mrs. Utterson lunches toward him. His skin tingles, not with fear but with the anticipation of change. He feels Hyde wake up, hot pressure behind his eyes. Confusion winds through his mind, horror and relief warring for the following. Mrs. Utterson's teeth flash and relief wins out.  
  
He closes his eyes and lets blackness settle over him.  
  
Hyde surges up and out of the dark, propelling his body forward counterpoint to the oncoming attack.  
  
Her teeth snap shut on air and she looks at him for a second as if she can't comprehend his existence.  
  
" _You_ ," she snarls. "You should be dead."  
  
He rolls his eyes. "Clearly _not_. God, you're, like, the worst mother _ever_."  
  
"And you're an ungrateful brat," she says. "The things we could have _done_ -"  
  
He growls so low she's the only one who could hear it. "At the expense of _my family_."  
  
Her lips curl upward, not a smile, and she lunges again.  
  
He lunges as well.  
  
He's learned restraint now but chooses not to exercise it, his whole strength breaking over him in waves. They topple to the ground, anger and bloodlust.  
  
She draws first blood, nails digging into his shoulder, tearing skin and muscle. The scent hits him before the echoes of pain.  
  
After that it's only minutes until the end, his teeth sinking into her throat.  
  
" _No!_ " she shouts. As last words go, it's not the best she could have done. Then she gurgles uselessly and falls silent.  
  
He waits a minute, poised above her body in stillness. When the red fades from his vision he turns his head and spits out a mouthful of blood and flesh. Once he would have swallowed it. He pushes himself to his feet and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, looks around the room.  
  
None of the furniture is going to be salvageable. It's been torn apart, stuffing thrown carelessly around the room. The wallpaper is torn, huge gashes showing the wood paneling beneath. Blood is either smeared or splattered on every surface. It looks like a crime scene.  
  
A grin spreads across his face, satisfied rather than manic. He runs his tongue over his teeth, then licks his lips, catching the last droplets of blood.  
  
His insides go soft and warm and he sighs, perhaps a touch melodramatically. "Just five more minutes, Daddy."  
  
The colour starts to go out of the world and he feels himself falling. For a moment the world is entirely black and white, and then the colours begin to separate again, not as bright as before. Seeing through someone else's eyes is like that.  
  
Tom starts shaking the second control is his again, fumbles for his phone but ends up dropping it. He gags on the taste of blood. "You-"  
  
"Don't pretend to be surprised, Daddy," Hyde says. "Don't pretend you didn't know what would happen if you let me out to play."  
  
" _Play?_ " he protests bleakly. "This is what you call _play?_ "  
  
"You knew that. If you didn't want it you wouldn't have let me out."  
  
"I didn't _want_ -"  
  
" _Liar!_ You think I couldn't tell? When I woke up? You were _relieved_ , I could feel it, because _you_ didn't have to _die_."  
  
Tom clamps down on the urge to scream, to protest. In some corner of the part of his mind that belongs to him, he recognizes that Hyde is only goading him. Distracting him. In anyone else it might be considered a kindness. He exhales, once, then nods. "Okay. What do we do now?"  
  
"You're asking _me?_ Don't you _always_ clean up my messes for me?"  
  
"That's true." He picks up the phone, not quite steady but well enough to manage.  
  
"Doctor Jackman?"  
  
"Both of us, actually. I - We - I let him - We need your help, Katherine."  
  
There's silence on the other end of the phone, then, "Tell me where you are."  
  
  
  
When Katherine arrives half and hour later, she isn't alone. She has Min and Miranda trailing after her curiously, Min nearly bursting at the seams with her pregnancy.  
  
"Christ," Miranda says, looking around. Min, a step behind her, just gasps.  
  
Katherine ignores the mess and goes right to Tom, who is standing in the farthest corner of the room, his back ramrod straight. She lays a hand on his shoulder, the uninjured one, fortunately. "Doctor Jackman?"  
  
"I couldn't look at it anymore," he says.  
  
She glances at the room -- bloodsoaked, torn, destroyed, slowly cooling body in the middle -- then back at him. "I understand." She pulls gently, turning him toward her. "Come on, Doctor Jackman, I need you to look at me. Come on."  
  
He turns, meets her eyes. "Hello, Katherine."  
  
"Hello," she says after a brief moment of shock. Her hand falls back to her sides. "Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"She's our - _was_ our mother. She was like us. She was... she was going to kill me. And I-" He shakes himself. "I felt him wake up and I let - we - I did know. I knew. I knew it would come to-"  
  
"Okay," she says soothingly. "Okay. Is he awake? Can he hear me?"  
  
He nods.  
  
"Good. Now I need you both to listen. Doctor Jackman, Mr. Hyde. Are you listening?"  
  
Tom nods again, for the both of them.  
  
"What happened here was self-defense. It was not murder. It was _not_ your fault. Either of you. Have you got that?"  
  
"But-"  
  
"That's what I believe. It's what Min and Miranda believe, too. Don't you?" she tosses over her shoulder.  
  
"Of course we do," Min murmurs.  
  
Tom gives her a look.  
  
"Have you got that?"  
  
"Self defense," he echoes. "Not murder. Not our fault."  
  
"Right. We'll have to work on that. Don't worry, I'll pencil it into your calendar." She doesn't wait for a response before moving on; their mental well being is important, but right now she can see blood and that has to take precedence. "How badly are you hurt?"  
  
He looks surprised at the question, as if he's forgotten he was injured at all. Then he shifts a bit, taking stock, and winces. "I think the shoulder is the worst."  
  
She nods. "You're going to let me make sure of that. Unless you want to go to hospital," she adds when he starts to protest.  
  
He acquiesces and allows her to lead him into the restroom while Min and Miranda begin to clean up.  
  
They don't talk while she cleans him up and checks him over, gentle and impersonal as any physician. He has a lot of minor cuts and scrapes, a black eye, a couple bruised ribs, and the deeper wound in his shoulder. She finds a bandage and secures it in place as best as she can. When she's finished she turns her back and lets him change into the suit Min had picked up for him on the way over.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome. What are you going to tell your wife?"  
  
"The truth. Lying didn't work so well the last time." He smiles, but it's a pitiful attempt at humour.  
  
She nods and presses his phone into his hand. "Give her a call. We'll finish cleaning up in the meantime."  
  
It actually takes three days to get the house cleaned out without raising suspicion. By the time the women are finished with it the walls have been re-papered and all the furniture replaced, and it looks as if no one has lived there in days. There's certainly no evidence that anything untoward happened there.  
  
Whatever they do with the body, he doesn't ask.


End file.
